


Opportunities Arise

by acrimonyofkings



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Ireland, pub
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-16 21:52:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3504062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acrimonyofkings/pseuds/acrimonyofkings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey readers! This is my first ever post to a public forum, I'm nervous as hell, and I'm thinking I'll post like three chapters immediately and wait for a reaction or something. I may throw in a fourth depending on how long, or f**k it, maybe I'll just go whole hog and give you everything I have so far and wait for a reaction (probably the latter). I hope you enjoy, I've had snow days for the past few days and a lot of free time. I hope you enjoy it, of course a writer won't like their work, but hopefully if you guys read it, it'll give me some sort of drive to continue. I don't have an endgame to this yet, so I guess I'll just figure that out when the time comes.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey readers! This is my first ever post to a public forum, I'm nervous as hell, and I'm thinking I'll post like three chapters immediately and wait for a reaction or something. I may throw in a fourth depending on how long, or f**k it, maybe I'll just go whole hog and give you everything I have so far and wait for a reaction (probably the latter). I hope you enjoy, I've had snow days for the past few days and a lot of free time. I hope you enjoy it, of course a writer won't like their work, but hopefully if you guys read it, it'll give me some sort of drive to continue. I don't have an endgame to this yet, so I guess I'll just figure that out when the time comes.

Early Monday morning blared in Sansa’s face as she struggled out of bed, light hitting her face at uncomfortable angles. She checked the clock on her bedside table. Just as she thought; late on her first day of classes. Being a new transfer student from Newcastle, this probably wasn’t a great impression to give the professor on the get-go. She struggled out of bed, getting a short sleeved lavender dress out of her clean hamper and didn’t bother with her makeup. Pulling her hair back in a ponytail, brushing her teeth, and pulling on a pair of casual flats had her strained for time, but she was out the door in two minutes flat.

Sansa Stark had recently transferred to a larger University in Dublin to better intensify her knowledge of business. The school in Newcastle didn’t offer as many benefits as the newer one, plus it didn’t have many incentives, like shadowing under her professors to get a better feel for the workplace she was gonna be forced into. London was out of the question at the moment. It wasn’t that she couldn’t afford it, but her ex happened to go to the school of her choice if she were to go to that god damn city.

Running across the center green, Sansa quickly found her class after a thirty second look at the map. It was mid-semester, and she knew no one at the university. Finally, she spotted her class and slowed her pace, smoothing back her hair and stuffing the map in her dress pocket.

She entered the class looking down at first. Eyes glued on her, Sansa made her way to the center of the lecture hall, placing her things on the empty seat near a pleasant looking blonde girl. The class was silent, and she hadn’t even looked up yet.

When she did, fewer eyes were on her, but two pairs from two directions bore into her more intensely than before. Finally, the woman next to her leaned in and gently touched Sansa’s arm, speaking softly to her.

“Do you belong in this class?” the woman next to her whispered. Sansa looked up for the first time, taking a dive into her sea-blue eyes. She was definitely one of the most gorgeous women she’d ever seen.

“Depends, is this Wealth and Financial Literacy?” Sansa whispered back.

The woman smiled and nodded, removing her arm and holding out her hand. “I’m Margaery Tyrell. It seems like you’re in the right place.”

Sansa inwardly sighed at the prospect of gaining some semblance of friendship. Now if she could get her grades to do the same, damn it, then she might just be on to something. She almost forgot about the second pair of eyes observing her from the front of the room. Sansa looked up slowly from her notebook and met a pair of grey eyes.

“You must be the new student. Please, do tell us your name.” The professor smiled a crooked smile and put his hands into his pockets, leaning against his desk in the middle of the lecture floor. Sansa noted his calm and confident demeanor.

She hesitated before letting herself be known. “I’m Sansa Stark.”

The man paused, almost as if contemplating, and then went back to his casual disposition. “Well, Sansa Stark, do you know where you are?”

Considering this as a trick question, Sansa looked to her right and saw Margaery shrug. “Am I in Financial Literacy?”

“Yes, and do you know what we study in finance?”

“I’m assuming business and numbers, am I correct?"

“Precisely.” The professor’s arms folded in front of his chest, his smile forever etched into his face. His salt and pepper hair contrasted the comfortable green collared shirt, sleeves rolled up, as if he’d be working with his hands. “Do you know what our class doesn’t entail, dear Sansa?”

Sansa shook her head, eyes wide with multitudes of questions running through her mind.  
“Talking. If you have any more questions, please see me after class and ask them as opposed to asking sweet Margaery, there. And for future reference, please refrain from being late again tomorrow.” The professor then promptly walked around his desk and began his lecture.

Sansa’s cheeks burned red with embarrassment. Margaery leaned in again, which seemed like a character trait of hers, and whispered. “That’s Professor Baelish for you. You’ll get used to him throughout the course.” Sansa could only hope.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's two! Probably three and four up tonight as well!

Three weeks had passed, but Sansa was barely doing that. The more fast paced and intense learning was definitely taking its toll on her. She climbed the steps to her dorm, grateful that she didn’t have to share with anyone because of her late entry to the university, and as well as her financial situation from her parent’s wealth.

She thought about her family back home. Because of her father’s upstanding position in government, Sansa had grown up wealthy and spoiled. Her brothers and sister picked on her for being the brat in the family, but thankfully she matured by the age of sixteen. By then, she was preparing to go to university, and her parents were the first people to suggest something exponentially more feminine than business and finance, like English or whatever girls liked to study. She didn’t know much about other courses of study, but ever since she was a child, despite her girly disposition, Sansa had always thrived as a business major because of her exceptional ability to sway people in a conversation. If only she could channel her passion she had when she was younger.

Sansa entered her not-overly spacious room and threw her bag against the bed. She collapsed onto her small couch and fell into a deep sleep.

She awoke a couple hours later to her phone ringing. Bleary-eyed and disoriented, Sansa slapped her hand against the coffee table in front of her “luxurious” suede brown couch until she reached her phone, answering it before looking at the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Ah, Sansa, I was hoping to get a hold of you. Are you on campus?” the voice questioned.

“Um…yes,” she replied. She knew the voice all too well; Professor Baelish certainly didn’t have a voice to forget.

“Good, good. I was hoping to get you in for a one on one meeting concerning your grades. I think after all the trouble it took for your transfer to Dublin that it’d be quite a shame to let a petty thing like your grades send you home.”

Sansa considered his offer to meet. They hadn’t said more than ten words to each other after their encounter the first day of class, now he was calling her? That seemed a bit out of left field. She responded, anyway. “Yes of course, when would be a good time for that?”

“As soon as possible, if that’s reasonable for you. I’m heading home soon, and I thought we could get this out of the way tonight before the test next Tuesday.” His voice was concise and professional, almost as if he was her employer. Perhaps that was the goal; to prepare her for the future.

Sansa checked the time on her phone. “That’s fine, I’ll be right down.”

She waited for a response, but he had hung up. Sansa looked down at her clothes, and decided to throw on something else to give the impression that she didn’t just sleep for three hours. After an unsettling amount of consideration about her makeup, hair and shoes, she was out the door with her books from his class alone. Walking down the hall, she thought about how he had gotten her number. Had she given it in to the class? Did he deliberately seek it out from the main office? He had never struck her as a straight shooter; she never really knew what Professor Baelish was thinking. The man had always seemed to be three paces ahead of everyone else, figuring the issues students had with the course material before they did. Sometimes he’d call out individual students before they even thought about raising their hands and gave them insight as to what their issues might be: it was bizarre to say the least.

Now Sansa thought she may be dealing with something above what she knew. She didn’t know the man’s intentions. Sansa shrugged off any idea of ill will and entered through the thick wooden door to his class.

The school was old, but somehow they allowed for him to have his own office built behind the blackboard, which no other teacher she had had. Sansa looked around the room for his familiar face, but had no luck at spotting him.

Emerging from the door next to the board, Professor Baelish came toting files and binders and closed the door with his foot. He spotted Sansa and smiled, greeting her.

“Sansa,” he put his items down on the table. “Please join me at the front.”

Sansa walked further in and noticed the soft violin concerto playing in the background. Quick to identify it, she slowed her pace and questioned, “Viotti?”

Taken aback, the professor raised his eyebrows and folded his arms before sitting down, listening to the music for a moment. “A woman of many tastes! Tell me, how do you know the composer?”

“My mother had me study and play the classics. I wouldn’t be the person I am today without knowing at least a little bit of the stuff. See these?” Sansa raised her open palms at the man. He studied them, leaning in while sitting down. “Calluses from practicing the violin for many a night. I gave it up when I went away to university.”

“Why?” the professor inquired, studying them further.

“I thought it’d get in the way of my studies. Now look at me, I’m here talking to you about how to keep from failing your class, Professor Baelish. Irony hurts sometimes.”

The man gave a light smile, deep in thought. “Did you love it?”

Sansa looked down, unsure how to answer. “I did. Until I was forced to. So up until I was about fourteen. I was good, too, but I didn’t like performing.”

“Maybe someday you can grace me with your talent, Miss Stark.”

Sansa gave a slight smile, and then looked down again. “So, what exactly do I need to accomplish in order to pass?”

The man looked down at the array of papers on his desk, unsure as to which one would be best for the situation at hand. After a moment of contemplation, he handed a manila folder to the redhead. “Take these. They should help you with your basic accounting. And this,” he handed her a book. “This should help you get started with the next chapter."

Sansa took the materials hesitantly. “Will these definitely help me pass?”

He smiled, almost satisfied with himself. “Yes.”

“Alright. Thank you, Professor Baelish.”

“Call me Petyr,” he said softly. Sansa held his gaze for a moment. Something was different about him than anybody she’d met at this school so far. She was a stranger to everyone else there, but to him, it seemed like she’d known him for years prior. Nothing about him seemed foreign. She felt oddly comfortable. “It’s ridiculous for such formalities when you’re an adult.”

Fighting a blush, Sansa replied just as softly as him. “Petyr.”

Petyr looked at his watch, eyes closing as if remembering something.

“Shall I leave? Is that all the information I needed from you?”

He looked up as soon as she’d said that. “Um,” he said looking at the files on his desk, running his hands over the papers. “I suppose so. That will be all, Sansa.”

She smiled slightly, and then took her leave, looking behind her as she did so. He gave a small wave, and she reciprocated. Finally, things seemed like they were working out.


	3. Chapter 3

Sansa awoke early and rested for the Friday ahead of her. She turned off her alarm before it blared, and looked out the window. A view of the rolling hills of Ireland sprawled out ahead of her. It was actually sunny, too, giving her more of the incentive to do well today. She began reading the information and books given to her from Petyr the Monday that week, took the test, and now she finally felt up to speed with everything the class was up to.

Running a brush through her hair, Sansa actually found time to braid it like she liked, and wore her favorite green dress with her gold flats. Spring was approaching, and she felt it in her bones. Soon, she’d get to go home for break and see her family. She missed her parents and Robb and Bran. Even Arya. Despite their differences in the past, she looked at them as they were: petty and natural for siblings. Now being away from her, she’d do anything just to have an argument with her.  
Walking along the grass towards her first class, she heard running behind her. Turning around, she felt the force of Margaery’s arm being slung around her shoulders, hips bumping into Sansa’s.

“Where the hell have you been, Stark? I’ve been dying to take you out to one of the pubs, you look like you need a good snog.”

Sansa smiled at the offer. “I’ve been studying. If you haven’t heard, that’s the new craze amongst transfer students on the brink of failing.”

“Aw, c’mon, Sansa, you know you wanna go out. Even a girl like you can have fun sometimes or know when you just gotta cut loose.”

“A girl like me?” Sansa laughed. “What exactly is that?”

“You know…pent up, bored, prude.”

“Way to not hold back,” Sansa said, feigning offense.

“You know it’s true, and the truth hurts, dear friend. You need a good lay, and a pretty girl like you shouldn’t stay single for as long as you have.” Sansa just closed her eyes and shook her head.

The duo approached their first class together and found their seats. Petyr looked up and met eyes with Sansa, smiling slightly. Sansa smiled back, then looked back down at her notes. This interaction didn’t escape Margaery, since the first thing she did after the exchange was nudge Sansa with her elbow. Sansa thought it best just to pay attention with the class, she needed the catch-up anyway, and she couldn’t afford to let Margaery’s inquisitions ruin her attempts at an A for the semester.

The lecture ended almost as fast as it had begun. Margaery kept ‘psst’ing Sansa, and she simply ignored it. What was the harm in a smile, anyway?

“Sansa, can you stay a few minutes?” Petyr’s voice cut through the shuffling of feet out the door and various conversations.

This gave Margaery the ammunition she needed, whispering to Sansa, “Text me after school,” with a self-satisfied grin. Sansa rolled her eyes and made her way to the front of the class.

“Professor Baelish,” she addressed him. He gave her a warning glance before she corrected herself. “Sorry…Petyr.”

Petyr smiled and sat down at his desk. “Take a seat, Sansa. I have your most recent test score, would you care to hear?”

Sansa nodded cautiously, the slight sound of a full orchestration of Handel in the background of their conversation. “Should I be concerned?”

“Very much the contrary. You got a perfect score. It’s safe to say that the papers I gave helped?”

“I suppose,” Sansa smiled. “I can’t say I didn’t expect the score, however. I’ve been reading the information you gave me like the Bible.”

Petyr sat up in his seat, impressed. “I’m proud of you, Sansa. Are your other classes improving as well?”

“Actually, yes,” Sansa practically beamed. “After you suggested the extra material, I took the initiative with my other classes as well.”

“Well I’ll be expecting some sort of payment for my service, maybe a nice wine…” Petyr joked.

“I’ll be sure to get that to you as soon as I can afford it. A student’s lifestyle is anything but luxurious, even if you take into account where my parents work in government back in England.”

“You can’t afford it off daddy’s money?” Petyr jested.

Sansa laughed in spite of herself. “Yeah, parliament isn’t exactly the best place to say your father doesn’t make money, but please take into consideration that he cut me off after paying for my schooling alone.”

“I will, I will.” Petyr paused. “So does that mean all the studying I suppose you’ve been doing has prevented you from properly seeing the country?”

“It has.” Sansa had been holed up on campus for so long, she’s surprised she hadn't gone stir crazy.

Petyr shook his head and disapprovingly clicked his tongue. “We ought to change that.”

“How do you mean?” Sansa inquired. Perhaps Margaery had a better sense of romantic direction than she thought.

“Well, I thought since I put you in that situation of studying so hard, that I might as well help you out of it, too. Of course, only if you’re comfortable with it, it wouldn’t be anything more than a dinner discussing studying.”

Seeing his point, she forsook her reservations on the situation. “Yes, of course. It’s time I see the town, I was actually going to go out to a pub with Margaery at some point.”

“Then we’ll be sure to avoid the one you go to,” he smiled. “How does tomorrow around six sound?”

“Fine, fine,” Sansa said. “Should I dress up?”

“If you want. I don’t think we’re so highbrowed of people to refuse people because of the clothes on their backs.”

Feeling more comfortable, Sansa relaxed in her chair, looking at his desk. She could’ve sworn she saw a flash of red hair in a picture frame, but he spoke before she gave much thought to it.

“Six it is then,” he said laying his hands on his desk. “I’ll see you then, Miss Stark. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

“Yes, sir. Have a pleasant rest of your day.”

Sansa left the room with the comforting sounds of violins and flutes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I sorta-kinda changed POVs...that might happen throughout. Goodness, I hope you guys like it...

Petyr watched the redhead leave. How stupid can I be? He thought to himself. The man couldn’t believe he’d even considered an evening with her, even if it wasn’t a date. How, after all that time, he could just let himself get so enamored with the idea of her again that he could do something this stupid.

The professor retreated to his spacious office behind his blackboard and took a seat at the desk in front of the window, emitting only the moon’s light at the end of his busy day.

It was about nine in the evening; he had stayed after for grading. His hands found his face, and rubbed. All he wanted to do was help her pass. The thought of her parents traveling to Dublin for a “meeting” with the professor was out of the question, and it was the least he could do for the poor girl.

After the fight, the fight for _her_ , he knew he couldn’t stay in England. He refused to believe that it was possible for his past to catch up with him. Now here she was, the striking image of her mother, sitting right, square in the middle of his class almost as if God were taunting him. He thought back to Cat. How she’d let him live, punishing him for being in love, and now living with the shame for the rest of his life.

Opportunity never ceased with him, either, however. Now that this woman, the striking image of her mother, was so far away from home, perhaps he could have a fresh start, one where he could forget any of his past ever existed. Perhaps, just maybe, he could get away with this.

Petyr got up and went to the small ornate cabinet in the corner, pulling out a bottle of scotch and a glass. Returning to his seat, he thought about the girl. Sansa. Even the name was typical to that Tully woman. Pouring the liquid, he turned to face the castle-like window, peering out as if he could see the end of the world. That’s what it might as well have been.

Getting up, he put on an old record on his 70’s record player. Abbey Road worked for now. Sitting back down and inhaling the scotch, he thought deeper than ever. He felt like it was just yesterday he’d been in Cat’s arms.

_Just fucking forget it, man_. He cursed himself for even contemplating any semblance of a relationship with an innocent girl. After Cat, he moved back to his homeland, delving deep into his work. Being a professor wasn’t where he wanted to be, but it made a steady salary and was a good front for a pub he owned downtown that participated in some _illicit_ activities. His passion was knowledge and finance. Being at the top of a teacher’s career and head of the business department had its perks.

Little did he know his work would put him at risk again. At risk of his heart breaking, or even perhaps hers.  
Finishing his drink, he ended up falling into a stressful slumber in his chair.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok one more...maybe two...I'm just digging an early grave for myself. If the fic gains traction, then I'll DEFINITELY be motivated. As for right now, enjoy, because I see myself putting all the chapters I have up today.

Margaery showed up at Sansa’s dorm instead of texting her. Knocking loudly, Sansa was forced to turn and walk towards the door from where she was doing research on her laptop.

Opening the door, Margaery shoved in past her, settling on her couch facing the bed. “Are you gonna tell me what the hell is going on with you and Baelish?”

“Do come in,” Sansa said with as much sarcasm as she could muster. When Margaery rolled her eyes, Sansa took her place on the bed.

“Tell me what’s with you. Like I said before, I can tell when pretty girls don’t get action, and you definitely haven’t gotten any. Not until I saw you totally have the hots for the teacher.”

Sansa, expecting that reaction from the exceptionally little contact she made with the professor himself, wasn’t as taken aback as Margaery expected. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about, and I never will.”

Her answer not pleasing Margaery, she replied quickly, “But then you stayed after class. Baelish is not what you’d call an ‘involved’ teacher. If you don’t have the hots for him, he most certainly has the hots for you.” Satisfied with herself, she spread her arms across the back of the chair and rested her head against the wall behind it, anticipating a response.

“How do you come to that conclusion?”

Margaery looked up, her face confused. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted Bae-licious to invite me to ‘stay after class’? When he never did this year, I just kinda gave up. New girl rolls around, and here we are. Tell me, does he talk all sweet to you?”

Stunned, Sansa just sort of paused for a beat. She thought that it was normal for teachers to do that sort of stuff? Was he really so special as to not do it at all for other students?

“Listen, even when I asked to stay after, he just said he was busy. Rumor has it, he has no family and just runs whores in the city. That’s what he does on the weekends. One of my friends tried to see where he went on the weekends because he’s such a private dude, and we were curious; even then he couldn’t figure it out. Basically speaking in general terms, we’ve been trying to figure out Baelish since his class started, and here you are getting invited after class. I’m just saying I’m extremely curious.”

Sansa took in the information. Ran whores? Was he really this much of an anomaly that he had students following him home to find out what he does? What was his plan with her? Was he really just intending to talk business? Questions swam in and out of her mind faster than Margaery spoke aloud. Sansa considered telling her the invitation she received from the most talked about man in the room.

“So what did you two talk about? It can’t just be about grades, God, Sansa, that’s so mundane.”

“No, not just about grades,” Sansa breathed. “You may have me regretting a decision, however.”

“Scandalous! What decision?”

“He invited me to dinner tomorrow; he wants to show me the town first-hand.”

Margaery was excited, to say the least. Her mouth was open and she was smiling—big. “Oh my god, you have got to tell me everything when you go!”

“Yeah, but now you have me reconsidering going. You guys all know so little about him, what if he plans something…weird?”

“Oh, forget what I said! This is the most we’ve gotten out of him like ever. Please go, I’m dying to know more about this bastard.” Margaery was leaning forward now, elbows on her knees and hands together in front of her, and still smiling wide.

Sansa sat cross-legged on her bed, deep in thought. “I guess I’ll go then.”

Margaery only nodded in victory, then killed the subject. “Now that that’s over with, let’s hit the town. There’s a small pub just outside of the city.”

As quickly as she’d entered, she’d left, bringing Sansa’s leather jacket with her as if baiting her. Sansa followed reluctantly, grabbing her purse and phone, slipping on some shoes on her way out.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a few plot holes...again, I didn't really have a set plan for this story. I just decided to write one day. ......One of the plot holes is the lunch...they don't end up going to lunch. But I guess that's a problem for another day.

Sansa awoke from a hangover the next morning. She slipped out of bed, steadying herself on her side table. Her head throbbed, so she threw on a robe and went to the communal kitchen down the hall. Intent on getting water as soon as possible, she struggled for the paper cups.

Retreating to her room, Sansa went to her phone for evidence of what might have happened last night.

‘You REALLY know how to party! Let’s do it again---SOON. XOXO Margaery’. Fuck. That can’t be good.

Brushing it off, Sansa disrobed and struggled to the tiny bathroom in her room. She stepped in the small shower and turned the water on as high as it could go, praying the pipes were on full accommodation just for her this morning. With no luck, she suffered through the first two minutes of freezing temperatures, being caught off guard from the scalding hot water that followed soon after.

She stepped out of the shower to a text from Petyr. ‘Lunch?’ it read. She responded quickly, confusion on her face. ‘I thought we were going out at six?’

Almost immediately, a text popped back up, insisting that they might as well have a few more hours to catch up on lost time she had spent in her dorm. Peering out her window, she saw another sunny day, and had to admit, she had been dying to get out.

After some contemplation if she was actually clinically insane, she responded with a simple ‘where should I meet you?’ Little did she know, a man was smiling at the other end of the conversation.

Again, a message popped back onto her screen. ‘No where different.’

‘I’ll be right there,’ Sansa replied. The redhead dried her hair and put on some lipstick that matched the outfit she already had planned out. She mentally cursed herself for being that prepared, it didn't matter to her how she looked. Walking out the door to the four minute walk she usually makes, she set off towards the rest of her day.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, guys. I hope 6 chapters was enough to tide you over... Not gonna lie, I actually teared up from such a kind response. To think that something I so enjoy doing could get praise??? Beyond belief. I love you guys, and I could not be happier about the response. Keep it coming! I'm definitely not above saying I love praise!

How the fuck did he accomplish that? He didn’t think she would’ve said yes. This further proved his luck: generally bad, but with a hell of a lot of opportunity. Thankfully, he had rushed home after awakening at two in the morning and slept, showered, and gotten changed all in time to be back at the school to text her.

  
Why he texted her, he did not know. All he knew was that it was over and done with and she was on her way down to the class right now. It was innocent enough, wasn’t it? People, however, might start talking. He wasn’t ready for the backlash from the school board if they found out his extracurricular activities, so to speak.

Shit. She was on her way down. Petyr ran to the mirror in his office and fixed what needed to be fixed, ignoring any petty details he didn’t care about. This time—right now—it was about Sansa. Making her comfortable. Giving her the incentive to be the best she could be. That was the goal.

A moment went by, and Sansa emerged from the door on the far right of the classroom. He peered out the door of his office almost to check if the coast was clear, and entered, arms outspread in greeting.

“Sansa, what a lovely day it is. I couldn’t pass on the opportunity to show you the beauty of Dublin outside of the normal dreary rain, today must be a special occurrence.” Petyr smiled.

Sansa looked down and grinned. “It really is beautiful out. I even brought my camera,” she gestured to her yellow bag around her shoulder, “in case I see something I want to keep alive forever.”

Petyr looked at her bag. Then traveled slowly up the rest of her body, slowly, pausing at different instances in her figure. When he reached her face, he chuckled lightly. “I hope you like keeping lunch alive, I’m famished.”

With that, the duo set off out the classroom. Petyr led them to a parked car outside the science building, a red Audi S8.

“I see the teacher’s salary treats you well, Professor Baelish,” Sansa challenged.

“Yes, it’s one of the many perks I get. You should see some of my various beach houses in the French Riviera, or perhaps the two private islands I own in the Caribbean, my dear.” Sansa laughed.

As they set off towards the city, classic rock blaring from the speakers, Petyr looked over at his student. The light from the sun glinted off her eyes making them almost a green color. Her hair electrified in the wind from the convertible top down. Petyr believed she was truly more beautiful than her mother in that instant.

As they drove across the countryside towards the city on the horizon, Sansa spoke just above the music.

“Petyr?”

“Yes, dear one.”

“After the past few weeks, I’ve felt the strangest sense of déjà-vu or something when talking to you. I feel like I’ve known you all my life, hopefully that doesn’t sound creepy…”

“Of course not. How do you mean?” Petyr didn’t mind her inquisitive nature. It was one of the things that made her a great student.

“I just…it’s just the way you are, I don’t know…All I know is I’m glad I’m seeing the city with a competent tour guide, is all.”

Petyr nodded, eyes transfixed on the road ahead. “I had reservations about asking you to see the city, Sansa. People may talk; I just wanted you to be as comfortable with me as you are with, say, your own father or something along those lines.”

Looking to her right, Sansa debated any response in her head, and Petyr could tell that from the silence. “I am.”

Petyr smiled as the city landscape unfolded before them. “Welcome to Dublin, Sansa.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again! For your patronage, I've decided to give two chapters a go! You definitely won't be waiting too too long for the next few to come out. Again, I've made my error in the whole luncheon thing in the text, so I think I'll just continue on to where it's going and fix it along the way. I never wanted writing to become a chore, and by doing this, it's not. Just trust me, guys! It'll all come together.

Sansa took in the city. The afternoon sun glinted off the buildings, none of them tall enough to overwhelm her. London was a different story. But Dublin, Dublin was very much her speed. Driving down the city streets with her tour guide/professor, she admired the river dividing the town and the various bridges leading to different streets with different corners and different atmospheres. She missed the city, she admitted to herself.

“Where to first?” Petyr asked.

“You called me out here this early, I wouldn’t know what to do until about, I don’t know, six in the evening.” There was a brief pause. “But I suppose somewhere communal, like a library or a church or something.”  
Petyr only smirked and continued on his beaten path. After a long spell of silence from the driver, Sansa saw an old building come into view. She could only assume that was the destination, since he found the closest parking spot he could. It was busy this time of day, but it was the only time they could visit, she supposed.

The duo walked next to each other towards the old building juxtapose to the semi-modern landscape of the rest of the city. Sansa started taking pictures, uncaring of her tourist-y demeanor. Petyr only smiled, hands stuffed comfortably in his pockets as he looked ahead of them.

After reaching the door to the large cathedral, Sansa gasped audibly. Spread out before her was opulence never quite matched by anything she’d seen in her life. Sure, the Lannisters had a nice house, as much as she’d seen of it, but the majesty and beauty of the sacred temple couldn’t quite be matched.

“It’s well over seven hundred years old. I thought a suitable first spot, since it’s so engrained in Ireland’s history. St. Patrick’s Cathedral is renowned worldwide.” They both entered the church with only a little trepidation.

Sansa, awestruck, moved down the aisle and looked around. Petyr followed her motions, keeping it in the back of his mind that seeing her in a church made him yearn for something he couldn’t have. She looked practically angelic with the white marble alter spread out in front of her.

Knocking him out of his daydream, unbeknownst to Sansa, she turned to face him and beamed. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Sansa said wistfully.

“I’m glad I could blow you away this early. That makes my job as tour guide that much easier.” Petyr looked to the front of the church. “There’s a lot less people here than I thought, care to sit?”

Sansa nodded and led the way. They sat comfortably on the left in the fourth pew side by side.

“Churches always make me think of my family. They’re overtly Catholic. Nothing goes together like traditions and church,” Sansa mused, transfixed on the crucifix at the head of the alter.

Petyr leaned forward and crossed his hands over the next pew up. Various tourists chirped around the church, taking in its majesty all the same. “And you, Sansa?”

“And I what?”

“Do you follow the same values as your family?”

“That’s quite a personal question, Mr. Baelish.”

“I didn’t mean to offend, it was just an inquiry.”

Sansa looked up at the dying man on the cross. Closing her eyes, she remembered all the Christmas dinners argued about amongst her family. All of the fighting caused over a single man. She believed. She struggled, yes, but struggled with faith all the same. What did she have to lose?

“You didn’t. I’m sorry, it’s just…” Sansa trailed off.

“It’s okay, dear one, it’s not a pressing issue.”

Sansa looked at the man and smiled thinly. She thought about Margaery and what she’d ask him. “Are you married, Petyr?”

Petyr laughed softly, muttering, “And here we have a prime example of the pot calling the kettle black.”

Sansa felt she over-stepped her boundaries this time, backing out of the situation, “I didn-“

“I was in love once.” Petyr looked ahead. “She fell for another man, never really got around to figuring the rest out for myself. Love isn’t my forte, Miss Stark, no. I prefer shaping the minds of our future business elites so they can have a fighting chance. Some people, and I mean no offense to you, were not born into such luxuries. They had to claw their way up from the bottom. And the only way they can do that in this world is to have some say in business: it’s the language of the rich man, but still easy enough to be taught to the common one, dear Sansa. Love isn’t the way to the top, I’ve found. Intellect is.” Petyr leaned back in the pew, relishing in his own thought process.

“But you’ve never once had a date or romance, or anything?”

“Never felt the need.” Petyr’s eyes were glued on the pew two rows in front of him.

“How tragic,” the girl spoke.

This caused Petyr to shift his attention to the redhead. “No, Sansa. Think of my situation as a tragedy if I didn’t have the opportunities I had. I thought of my situation as opportunistic, solely on the fact that I wanted to better myself. Now I have. I’m driving around in expensive cars, I own my own business outside of being the head of the business department at the most elite school in all of Ireland, and I’m spending my Saturday with one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.” Petyr paused and looked at Sansa dead in the eye. “Don’t pity people like me, Sansa. Pity those set in their ways. Pity those that have lost their sense of adventure. The sooner you set that straight, the sooner you’ll be excited for the world set out before you.”

After staring at him for a long while, she sat back in the pew, looking ahead as he was. Without speaking, she hesitantly placed her hand on top of his, which was resting on his thigh. A simple gesture that spoke volumes to the man. A sense of understanding overwhelmed the pair. They sat in silence for the next few minutes, letting the vague organ music overtake their senses.


	9. Chapter 9

The two people exited the church, the bright sun starting to diminish slowly but surely.

“Where to next?” Petyr asked, amused.

“I’m starving, are there any good pubs around?”

“Follow me,” Petyr said. Breezing past his car, he led the girl to a small tavern a few blocks down. “I hope you like Guiness,” was all he said before leading them into the establishment.

Sansa looked around the tavern. It was pretty typical for an Irish pub: creaky, wooden floors, visible rafters in the low ceiling, and a polished bar at the center of the action. It was crowded, all right, but with Petyr’s keen eye, they found themselves a table for two in the back next to a window that looked out across a park.

When Sansa settled, Petyr got up, leaving Sansa only slightly panicked. He disappeared into the crowded center, bringing back a few minutes later two tall glasses filled to the brim with a dark liquid.

“You’re really good at not spilling that,” Sansa practically yelled over the loud atmosphere.

Petyr sat down, placing the beer in front of the redhead. “Can’t say I’m too proud to frequent these places.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I try not to drink too much. It throws me off. I prefer to see people pay me first, then they drink.”

“Is everything about business with you?” Sansa said taking a sip.

“It has to be. It’s the only thing I know.”

“Do you like, own a bar or something?” Sansa’s face twisted with the bitterness of the drafty beer.

“This one, yes,” Petyr said.

Sansa raised her eyebrows and looked around. Business seemed to be good. “Why don’t you tell more people about it? It might give your students a drive to start one or something. Move somewhere else, start fresh. That seems like exactly what you did, am I correct?”

“Yes. I moved away to England with my father, that’s when I fell in love. I moved back to start the rest of my life back up.”

“Was the heartbreak that devastating?” Sansa questioned, finishing her beer off.

“I wish it wasn’t. But yes,” Petyr took a long swig. He noticed Sansa looking down, almost sad. Had she really felt bad for him? He took the opportunity to place his hand over hers on the table. He clutched it and spoke softly, but still above the chatter from around the bar. “Like I said in the church, Sansa, don’t pity me. I’m not upset or sad or damaged. Well not emotionally, anyway.”

“Not emotionally?” Sansa inquired.

Petyr looked away for a second. “I have a ‘token of her husband’s esteem’ from naval to collarbone.”

“You fought him and she still didn’t fall in love with you?” Sansa was practically gripping his hand now.

Petyr looked away and decided to change the subject. “More beer?”

Sansa sat back, semi-defeated, and nodded her head. He left immediately, leaving Sansa to her thoughts while looking out the window. A figure emerged from the crowd and approached her table. Thinking it was Petyr sitting, she faced him while being slightly taken aback.

“Oi, love, you here alone?” the man spoke. He had a nasty scar on his eye, and a glint that said he wasn’t friendly.

“No, actually.” Sansa attempted to keep her panic under wraps.

“Lucky man, ‘aving you out tonight. Any chance I could steal you away?” The man sneered with his last sentence.

“None at all actually, thank you. He should be back soon.”

As if on cue, Petyr walked up to the table, beers toted in hand. Handing one to Sansa, he spoke gracefully and with confidence. “Have we a guest? Sandor, get back to the party, you’re drunk.” The man shifted uncomfortably when he saw it was Petyr addressing him.

Sansa didn’t know how or why Petyr knew the large man, but he obliged, retreating to the massive crowd. Petyr sat back down as if nothing happened.

“How did you—“

“He works for me; it’s a long and boring story, believe me.”

That shut the girl up. She took a long drink of her fresh beer, slowly feeling the effects. They had small talk for a good while before Petyr stirred up more interesting conversation.

“So tell me Sansa, you’ve intruded on my privacy enough tonight, I feel I’m credited to do the same: where’s your boyfriend?”

Racking her brain for a good enough story, she finally spoke. “I’ve been single since I was thirteen. My parents wanted me to marry this guy I was seeing, but God, he was such a fucking dick.”

“What’d he do?”

“He was just an asshole. An asshole to his friends, an asshole to his family, an asshole to me. We were both young, and he was the son of the prime minister. He thought he’d win the next election or something because he was the son of the current one, but he clearly doesn’t understand the electoral process.”

“And your parents set you up?”

“Yeah, it was stupid of me to listen. I was so obedient, still kinda am, but thankfully I think less about following the rules now that I’m away from my family.”

Petyr caught a dizzy smirk from the redhead, treading lightly on his next few words. “You enjoy breaking the rules now, yeah?”

“I guess. I haven’t had the, whatchyoucall it,” she hiccupped while providing air quotes with her fingers, “’opportunity’ to do so.” She picked up her drink and took a long gulp.

“When do you expect that opportunity to arise?”

Sansa looked out the window, widening her eyes in thought and blinking. “I just kind of assumed university would be this whole adventure, when in reality, all I got was a boring class schedule,” Sansa paused looking at the mock-offended man. “Not you! Oh, God, sorry that’s not what I meant.” The girl laughed and hiccupped again.

Petyr smiled. “Opportunities arise where you least expect them, Sansa. If there’s anything you should take with you when you go into the real world, it’s that.”

Sansa nodded in agreement, clearly loose from the alcohol. Lightweight. Petyr should’ve suspected. Petyr looked at the clock above the bar. Had they really spent three full hours talking? It wasn’t late enough to drive the poor girl home, but it wasn’t early enough to leave, either.

“Why is everyone so obsessed with you at the school? Margery had a huge thing for you I think. She came to me begging for ‘information’,” more air quotes, “on you and I just don’t understand it. You’re just a normal man, am I supposed to be impressed with your charisma or something?” Sansa practically slurred.

Petyr mused over her drunken honesty. Dear, he wanted to tell her. There is so much more to me that you don’t know. Forgoing that thought, he simply said, “Apologies, dear one. I am but a school teacher. I own a tavern. And drive a car. I’m sorry that your convoluted efforts to discover who I actually am were foiled. I am a fraud. A boring, mundane, fraud.”

Sansa studied her hands intently, laughing at the little bit of humor Petyr offered. Petyr decided it was time to take her home, he didn’t mean to get her this drunk right off the bat.

“C’mon, Sansa,” the man said leading the redhead out of the bar. They walked out into the cool night. Sansa started to shiver, so Petyr gave her his leather jacket and led her to the car, carefully closing the door behind her. He put the top up on the car, and they were off.

The thirty minute drive back to her dorm, all she did was sleep. The professor parked the car and helped the drunken mess out of the car, leading her to her dorm. He decided to try to carry her up the stairs, which turned out to be easier than he thought. As he approached her dorm, which he figured out from the keys in her purse, he let her lean against the frame, unlocking her door and leading her inside.

Petyr followed close behind the girl as she struggled to find her way, the whole seven feet to the bed in the middle of the room. He considered tucking her in, but he knew he’d overstayed his welcome anyway, so he settled for taking off her shoes instead and helping her feet on the bed. Sansa gave a small ‘thank you’ before nestling into her comforter, already in a deep sleep.

The professor smiled and closed the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright I'm starting to get into the swing of things, this is my update for the night. I hope it tides y'all over for a few :) DRUNK SANSA ANYONE? Alright, just tipsy, but maybe if the stars are in allignment... You will most likely get more from drunk Sansa.


	10. Chapter 10

Sunday morning hit Sansa like a ton of bricks. Opening her eyes, she squinted at her window, cursing the sun for rising. Surprisingly, Sansa remembered a good deal from her night before. Well, until the tavern, of course. How many drinks had she had? Four? Five? She admitted to herself she wasn’t a drinker a long time ago. All she remembers are the few beers making their way over to her after Petyr had gotten the first round started.

Petyr. He must’ve carried her back to her dorm the night before… Was she supposed to be creeped out or thankful? Thankful for the fact that he didn’t leave her drunk-ass in Dublin; but perhaps mildly creeped out that he knew where to take her?

Her phone buzzed on the side table on its charger. ‘Thank you, Professor Baelish,’ she thought as she reached for her fully charged phone. She dreaded finding out the time. Thankfully, it was only ten and Margaery was texting her like crazy. Her friend was on her seventh text to Sansa within the last ten minutes.

Hesitantly, she unlocked her phone and responded as subdued as possible to her slew of ‘what happened last nights?’ and ‘where r yous??’

‘I’m fine, calm down’ she sent. ‘I just got a little drunk.’ She needed to stop doing that if planned not to graduate as an alcoholic.

Steadying her nerves was her first concern, so she hopped in the shower for about five minutes before returning to Margaery’s congratulations on sleeping with the teacher.

Sansa’s eyes widened with shock and confusion. She didn’t sleep with him, right? Sansa couldn’t remember, and that freaked her out. She should not put herself into such precarious situations, and now she didn’t know if her professor actually took advantage of her. Quick to her response, Sansa typed a quick ‘did he say that?????’ and hoped for a good response, although that still wouldn’t prove much.

Margaery typed back with equal speed. ‘Of course not, I was just hoping you’d tell me. Do u not know or something?’

‘No, just wanted to make sure he wasn’t spreading lies. Thx xoxo.’

Sansa felt a weight lifted off her shoulders of some sort, but she still wasn’t sure of herself. He was an awfully attractive man with a kind disposition, but he was far too advanced in age for her. She should settle for someone her own age, right? She didn’t kid herself; she’d been into older men for as long as she could remember. But that by no means meant that she would go as far as to have intimate relations with her superior. That’d be…wrong…

Pulling on a simple yellow dress, she decided to take a walk in the courtyard with some materials from her finance class. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and grabbed her phone before going downstairs and into the spacious, green yard. She decided to sit on one of the available benches in the center of the area under the biggest tree there. It was an almost abnormally large apple tree, yet none were in season. The fragrance was a welcomed invitation nonetheless, even with the absence of fruit.

She sat and studied for a while, settling into the sounds of light chatter and the swaying of the trees. It took her a moment to notice a presence behind her. Sansa looked behind her to find her professor leaning against the tree, arms folded, salt-and-pepper hair curly and tousled. He was in a t-shirt and ripped jeans and converse, and looking vaguely like a student himself. She wondered if he’d gone home the night before.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said with an easy smile. Sansa shook her head inviting him to sit down. He accepted, making his way around the bench. “I was actually about to go check on you, make sure you didn’t, y’know-“

“No, thank you, I appreciate it. I assume you-“

“Took you home? Yeah, sorry if that was out of line, but I thought leaving you in my car would be more-so.” He draped his arms over the back of the bench, his fingers lightly grazing the back of Sansa’s arm. She inhaled deeply.

“I was just sort of…questioning things this morning, y’know, along the lines of…” she hesitated to finish and fumbled with her book, looking down and ashamed for voicing her concerns. Sansa knew he wasn’t a bad guy. It was only natural for her to feel uneasy if she was berating him with false accusations, if he was-

“Fucking you?” Petyr said bluntly.

Sansa’s eyes met his in an instant. Was it the t-shirt and jeans that made him feel invincible? “Putting it harshly, yes,” she said trying to mask the irritation.

“Oh, I didn’t,” he said, worry instantly etching into his face. She wondered where it was before. “No, no, no, no, no.”

“Well that’s good, I suppose.” They sat in silence for a few moments.

“Did you enjoy yourself at least? As in, what you remember?” he asked with a hint of humor.

Sansa smiled, shrugging off the joke. “Yes, I did have fun. The church was gorgeous, and the tavern was packed. It was a nice break from campus life.”

“I’m glad, we oughta do it again. There’s so much left to see,” Petyr said with sincerity. His fingers grazed her arm again as he spoke, and Sansa shivered. She tried to mask it by folding her arms over her chest.

They paused their conversation for a few moments, relishing the silence between them. It wasn’t awkward, at least not that she knew of. She appreciated being in the company of someone who didn’t treat her like a child or a friend, but more as an equal. She felt appreciated to be around, and she didn’t feel taken advantage of now that she knew the truth of last night.

“Well, I suppose I’ll-“

“Do you think you could help me with this?” Sansa cut him off with false urgency. She repressed knowing why, but somehow Sansa found herself lying about knowing her coursework.

Petyr, looking equally astonished, agreed with as much fervor. “Yes, anything.”

“It’s, uh…” Sansa studied the page to find something she didn’t know. “Right here,” she said finally, pointing at a paragraph. Petyr took the book from her lap, his hands grazing gently over her own.

The professor read for a few moments before knitting his eyebrows together, eyes glued to the page. “Um, Sansa, we had a test on this last week.” He looked up at her. “I thought you aced it?”

‘Fuck,’ Sansa thought. “I just needed a bit of a refresher.”

Petyr raised his eyebrows in confusion, but went over the material nonetheless. “Well you know that 501-C2’s and 3’s are different forms of a non-profit organization, which means they get a significant cut in taxes, or none at all because it’s in writing that they’re doing charity work.”

Sansa moved closer so that her shoulders were touching his. Innocent enough. She heard his breathing hitch. “So you’re telling me that if you open up a company and say you do charitable work, you get tax cuts?”

Petyr smiled at the girl, only a matter of space between their faces. “Not necessarily. See, you have to prove that you’re doing charitable work on this paper pictured here,” he pointed to an image, “and send it in to the government. Understand?”

Sansa nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder. He didn’t move, so she broke conversation to try to make him less uncomfortable. “I do, really, I’m just a bit hungover. Not, like, ridiculously so, but enough to make me a little nauseated.”

Petyr leaned back, the girl’s head still on his shoulder. “You’re not gonna throw up on me, right?”

Sansa laughed. “I can’t guarantee anything.”

They rested there for a few moments, appreciating the minimal activity in the courtyard. Now that she thought about it, she didn't see anyone. If there were too many people around, Sansa would’ve never pulled a stunt like this. It was taboo, but it was also a friendly gesture, as well as a sign of trust between the both of them. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself as she felt his muscles tense and relax under her scalp.

“Just give me some time to take cover,” he said with his trademark grin.

Sansa became uncomfortable after some time, but as if reading her mind, he draped his arm back over the bench and around her shoulder, bringing her in closer to him. Her head rested back on his shoulder as she turned a little more towards him, resting one hand between his leg and her’s, the other snaking behind his back. The book was closed and forgotten at this point, resting beside him.

“It’s really a beautiful day,” Sansa said wistfully, trying to suppress her fluttering butterflies. She didn’t know what had gotten into her, but she didn’t care.

“Truly,” he said in a husky voice. Was he just as confused? Before thinking, she asked a stupid question, a question in which she wasn’t prepared for the answer just yet.

“What are you thinking about?” she mustered with innocence.

“You,” he said seriously, looking straight ahead. Her eyebrows shot up without warning of that kind of answer. She was still buried in his comfort, but she never saw anything like that coming. Struggling to form words, she answered with as few as possible.

“Oh? Anything good?” she said with heavily laced humor.

Petyr paused and smiled to himself, looking down at her. “Yes, actually. Very good things.”

“Like what?” Sansa prodded, poking him gently in the side with her index finger, making him laugh. Her legs were stacked one over the other behind her, and she was relying on him completely for support. The professor didn’t waver at all, even with the prodding.

“About your grades, how with a little push, it helped you excel tremendously. I truly admire that in a person.”

Sansa deflated a bit from feeling a little let down at the answer he gave, but he continued.

“About your disposition, how you’re exceptionally friendly, even to old, decrepit men such as yours truly.” That earned him a gentle nudge of disagreement from Sansa.

“But most prominently, about your beauty and allure I just can’t seem to escape.”

Sansa blushed hard, burrowing her face into his chest so he didn’t see her. He laughed lightly and touched her hair with the back of his hand, moving it to her back and tracing tiny circles over her spine.

“I guess that might’ve taken it a little too far,” he said half to her half to himself. “I’m sor-“

Without thinking, Sansa met his lips with hers, grabbing his head with both of her hands while squeezing her eyes shut. The kiss lasted for less than three seconds, and it would’ve barely been considered a kiss if not for the intense and raw emotion behind it. Sansa pulled back after a moment, placing her legs on the ground in front of her in case she collapsed. She looked back at Petyr who seemed just as confused as she was, but there was also a glint of something in his eyes. Was it satisfaction?

“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely and briefly.

Petyr’s eyes weren’t crazy, but they were definitely up that alley as she spoke to him. He rubbed both hands over his face, and then together in front of his legs, resting his elbows on his knees. “Why?” he asked with equal sincerity.

“Because I’m probably not supposed to kiss my professor on the mouth, that’s why,” she said firmly. ‘Is he being serious?’

“Probably not,” he said immediately. He paused for a few moments, choosing his words wisely. “But I never took you for a rule breaker, either, and you still did it.”

Sansa opened her mouth to retort, but she had none. She was still surprised at her own actions.

“Listen, I have to go anyway, if you’re uncomfortable with seeing me-“

“I’m not uncomfortable.”

“Then tell me, Ms. Stark, should our next outing going to be considered a date?” he asked, standing up.

“Yes,” Sansa said in disbelief. She slumped back against the bench.

Petyr’s lips were a thin line as he thought. “So I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he said, trying to mask the silence.

“Yes,” she said again, almost in a trance. Petyr nodded towards the girl and stuffed his hands in his pockets, walking away from the deeply confused girl. He didn’t spare another glance for fear that he might go back.


End file.
